


your arms open up wide (and close me inside)

by glitter_ghostie



Series: the very thought of you [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: (even if your boyfriend sucks at making them), M/M, Potions Make Everything Better, Sick Fic, Witches, how close can i get to saying they're boning without saying explicitly that they're boning, return of ambient lighting, there's vague mentions of past sex but none in the actual fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-03 03:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11523579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitter_ghostie/pseuds/glitter_ghostie
Summary: finn gets a fever, good thing there's magic and a loving boyfriend on hand





	your arms open up wide (and close me inside)

**Author's Note:**

> "idk you might get more fics for this universe" i said "probably after finn week" i said
> 
> anyways a running theme of the witch fics seems to be that the titles are all lyrics from blues songs, hey-ho.

Finn woke to a pounding headache and a throat that felt like he’d swallowed a razor blade. He scowled, his eyes still shut, and tried to clear his throat – he then groaned when the pain didn’t dissipate.

He dared to crack one eye open, and even his _eyes_ hurt, causing him to close them again. This was one hell of a fever, Finn thought, and he slowly, slowly sat up, careful not to wake Poe who was asleep beside him. He had some potions that would help.

Well, he thought as his head spun, if he could _get_ to the kitchen.

Over the past few months, Finn had slowly started moving some of his things into Poe’s house, his kitchen becoming filled with jars and vials of liquids, powders and various dried leaves, fruits and bugs. He also had a drawer in the bedroom, a toothbrush and a bunch of toiletries.

Finn stumbled down the hallway, thankful for the darkness in Poe’s house, and upon reaching the kitchen began half blindly pulling jars from the shelves, trying to keep quiet. It was early, and they’d been up late last night, because –

Well, Finn thought with a smirk, Poe was probably too tired to get up for a while.

Finn had been nervous to take that step in their relationship at first, no matter how breathtakingly handsome he found Poe, and Poe had been so understanding, letting him take it slow until he was ready. He’d been relieved when he found out Poe was a virgin, too, and Finn could’ve cried when he had removed Finn’s shirt and kissed his scars, not trying to avoid looking at or touching them, when he’d whispered kind words against his skin and lips, making Finn’s body feel like a gentle fire was burning in his stomach.

He had paused in his shuffling around the kitchen at the memories, smiling a little to himself, but then he coughed and remembered the sharp pain in his throat, and he got back to business. Even so, the back of his mind went on to replay the memories from last night, which was how many nights ended, now: Poe’s smile above him, the curls that fell onto his forehead and tickled his nose and his magic fingers.

Finn squinted at his ingredients, making sure he had everything before getting a pot and filling it with a dark blue liquid. He’d made this potion countless times for other people, he could probably do this in his sleep, but then he really was starting to fall asleep at the counter. His hand came down to stop himself from braining the countertop, and Finn watched as one of the bottles tipped and began rolling towards the edge.

He caught it just in the nick of time, but the clattering of glass and Finn’s muttered curses _must’ve_ woken Poe – the walls were thin, and Poe was a light sleeper, even when he was exhausted; it was a bit of a miracle Finn had lasted this long without waking him, honestly.

Sure enough, he heard Poe getting up, and then the sound of bare feet on the wooden floor. Finn tried to act normal as Poe entered the kitchen, but if the look on his face was anything to go by, it hadn’t worked.

“Finn, are you ok? You look terrible.”

“Good morning to you, too,” Finn rasped, and Poe’s frown deepened. He placed a hand to Finn’s forehead.

“You’re boiling” he murmured, and then looked to the mess of jars on the counter. “And what’s this?”

“Potion for my fever – I’ll be right as rain as soon as it’s done.”

“Finn, you look like you could collapse – go back to bed, let me handle it.”

“But you don’t know how to make the potion – ”

“Just write me some instructions – I may not be great at potions, but I’m not completely hopeless.”

“Your singed eyebrows say otherwise.” Finn smiled at Poe’s scoff, but began to protest as warm hands turned him away from the stove. “No, I can do it – ”

“How about this,” Poe said, stopping them at the doorway. “You sit down and walk me through this, and then go back to bed while the potion kicks in.”

“That sounds fair,” Finn whispered, “but you’ll have to be quiet – I can’t talk any louder than this.”

 

It turned out that, under Finn’s careful guidance – and with Finn’s health at stake – Poe could manage the recipe for the medicine.

“It’s nearly done,” Finn croaked, nursing a mug of tea from his seat by the cooker. “Just add a teaspoon of honey.”

“Honey?”

“It doesn’t do anything except make it taste nicer.”

“I see.”

“Tastes like crap otherwise.”

Poe chuckled, adding the honey and stirring until Finn told him to stop. Finn poured out a portion, and preserved the rest in an empty jar.

“I’ll probably need a second dose later, but this should do for now,” he said, holding up his cup for Poe to inspect before tipping back the dark liquid. Even with the honey, it still tasted vaguely bitter, and Finn made a face.

“Did I get it wrong?”

“No, it just still tastes like garbage.” He finished the glass, and then stood. “I guess I said I’d go back to bed now, huh?”

“You did,” Poe nodded, readjusting the duvet Finn had wrapped around himself. They went back to their room – it was _theirs,_ the thought made Finn a little giddy – and Poe adjusted the pillows and blankets around Finn before crawling back in besides him.

“How long will it take for the potion to kick in?”

“Not long,” Finn murmured, his throat already a little less sore, and he felt Poe’s arms wrap around him. “Aren’t you worried about getting sick?”

“I’m now an expert at making anti-fever potions, I have nothing to worry about.”

“In that case,” Finn grinned sleepily at Poe, “a kiss wouldn’t hurt.”

“I guess it wouldn’t,” Poe said, and he rolled onto his elbows above Finn. He leant down, sealing their lips in a slow kiss, and Finn’s hands came up to hold his waist.

“Sorry, I probably taste of my medicine,” Finn murmured.

“I don’t mind,” Poe said, kissing him again, and then added, “ok, it does taste really bad.”

Finn’s laugh was still hoarse, but better than before. “If you make me some more tea, I can fix that.”

“Oh, I see,” Poe said, “you’re just using me for more tea.”

“That’s a ridiculous claim. I’m using you for your kisses, obviously.”

Poe rolled out of bed, shaking his head and laughing, and Finn was left in under the covers. He was still a little shaky, and his head was still pounding, but the medicine and Poe’s presence made him feel a little less crap. The fact that Poe never used a main light helped, too, as none of the lighting was any brighter than a low glow.

That man and his lamps, Finn snorted to himself. He probably had more lava lamps than he did underwear.

Poe returned a few minutes later, mug in hand, and placed it on the bedside table. Finn smiled up at him, and Poe touched his forehead again.

“You’re still warm, but you look a little better.”

“I feel a little better,” Finn said with a wink, and Poe snorted fondly.

“Drink your tea.”

“And then what?”

“Sickness makes you bold, huh?” Poe’s smile was teasing but also vaguely suggestive.

“’M always bold,” Finn said, sitting up and taking the mug. They made eye contact, and managed to keep straight faces for all of two seconds before Finn snorted and they both started laughing. Finn took a sip of his drink, and then they looked at each other again and it nearly came out of his nose.

“How about we just don’t look at each other?”

“That’s no fun,” Finn said, and Poe rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but the sooner you finish that, the sooner I can kiss you without tasting your medicine.”

Finn took another sip from the mug, and Poe got up, saying “I’m gonna get in the shower.” Finn was alone again, and he began chugging the tea, even though it was still piping hot. He then switched on the lamp by the bed, casting the bed in a soft purple glow, and tried to find a good pose to assume for when Poe got back. He was starting to get hot again, and stripped the shirt Poe had forced him into when he wouldn’t stop shaking, earlier.

Finn had his hands behind his head when Poe returned, and he gave Poe a knowing smile, eyebrows raised. Poe, in return, stopped to take in the sight of Finn for a moment, and then made his way back over to the bed.

“So,” Finn said, “kissing?”

“Sounds good,” Poe replied, voice soft, and Finn met him halfway. They both moved onto their sides, and Finn felt he could melt into the mattress as Poe’s hand explored his arm and back, his fingers brushing over the long scar there. Finn brought his hand up to card through Poe’s curls – not tugging, just gently combing the dark hair with his fingers, and Poe let out a soft sigh through his nose.

“This is nice,” Finn murmured after they parted again, and Poe smiled and rubbed their noses together.

“Feeling better?”

“Much better,” Finn said, and they melted back together again.


End file.
